


Scars

by shipslikefedex221b



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Correct pronouns (female) for grell, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Ronald is precious and must be protected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-18
Updated: 2015-09-18
Packaged: 2018-04-21 08:17:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4821878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shipslikefedex221b/pseuds/shipslikefedex221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Why didn't you tell me?" She murmured, crimson nails softly trailing down his cheek.<br/>"It was a long time ago. I didn't think it mattered."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars

Ronald jumped into the air with a victorious grin, pumping his fist. His sweater sleeve fell just enough and in a breath, Grell was by his side, pushing the sleeve up farther to reveal pale lines littering his skin.  
It was quiet, then.  
"Why didn't you tell me?" She murmured, crimson nails softly trailing down his cheek.  
"It was a long time ago. I didn't think it mattered." He replied, joyful expression slipping in an instant.  
The tips of his blond bangs brushed his cheeks as he looked down, eyes locked with the floor.  
"It was before I met you, Grell. I haven't..." he paused, nearly choking on that three letter word, "I haven't done it in years."  
Something changed in Sutcliff's expression, and suddenly her arms were around him. Her scarlet lips delivered words of encouragement,  
"If you ever want to again, please, don't hesitate to talk to me," she paused, pecking his cheek lightly and brushing his hair away from his eyes, "I don't want my dear Ronnie hurting any longer."  
Knox cracked a smile, eyes twinkling a bit, as he said,  
"That's all I needed to hear."  
He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his red lovers similarly hued lips, bottled up emotion starting to seep out without his consent. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against hers, sharing eye contact for a moment before closing his own and sighing quietly.  
"You... you promise I can talk to you whenever I need?" He said in a tone barely audible, mind returning to her previous statement.  
Tears threatened to spill over if he dwelled on the memories too long, and he needed even more reassurance if he was to stop himself from falling apart altogether.  
"Ronald," her slender fingers trailed down his jaw and tilted his chin up to her, "I promise. Anytime, anywhere. Even if we're fighting, or haven't talked in years. I will be there. You hear me, Knox?"  
And they both smiled (and cried a little).  
She kept that promise, decades into their immortal lives. No matter how many calls she'd get in the middle of the night, a sobbing Ronald on the other end, she was always there. She never tired of seeing his skin get clearer as the scars healed. She never made fun of him for the things that triggered his instinct to press a blade to his skin.  
As time went on, the calls got fewer. When they moved in together, he would sometimes wake up shaking harder than a groom with pre-wedding jitters (his were particularly intense as well - she should know, as she was the bride). His breath would come out in choked sobs, sweat dripping from his face in place of the tears that refused to come. But he always found solace in her arms, and she always found comfort in his comfort.  
She kept her promise, and never again did blood spill from Ronald Knox of his own accord.


End file.
